here they are
titled in black
an
white
little slivers
of
my
flesh
from what field has the sparrows wings fallen
oh night escaping me like bat through cave
was it me on the shore line with you
emotions from an upstairs meeting
her tender glances had me trapped
into her circle she pushes me
shoved past her corners
she threads me
lightly
she threads me
sewn into oblivion
she has sewn me in
oblivion
here
we
are
tumble-weed blown
how my heart cries
oh how my heart cries
each teardrop
reminds
me
never am i
never
am
i
reminded
your flask
of
tears
your
mothers
slit wrist
crying
who
am
i
push me back
in
the
closet
paint
my
faces
?
...
..
.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 7:59 AM UTC
here they are
titled in black
an
white
little slivers
of
my
flesh
from what field has the sparrows wings fallen
oh night escaping me like bat through cave
was it me on the shore line with you
emotions from an upstairs meeting
her tender glances had me trapped
into her circle she pushes me
shoved past her corners
she threads me
lightly
she threads me
sewn into oblivion
she has sewn me in
oblivion
here
we
are
tumble-weed blown
how my heart cries
oh how my heart cries
each teardrop
reminds
me
never am i
never
am
i
reminded
your flask
of
tears
your
mothers
slit wrist
crying
who
am
i
push me back
in
the
closet
paint
my
faces
?
...
..
.
